Hamsikker 3 (23 page)

“Can you do me a favor, please? I need you to hold onto this for me. It’s very dangerous, so you mustn’t play with it, you understand? I’ll get it from you when we’re out of here.” Jonas had no idea if it even had any bullets left, and it wasn’t much use in a fight against a swarm of zombies.

“Okay, Uncle Jonas.” Freya took the gun carefully, holding it as if it were precious china. She pushed it into her other pocket, and smiled. “Are we going home now? Are we going to get Daddy?”

The words stung Jonas more than any of the blows he had taken from Javier. “Sure, Freya. In a bit.”

Jonas could only deal with one thing at a time. If he told Freya that Erik was dead, there was no way of knowing how she was going to react. Right now he needed her focused and positive.

“We’re going on a little trip. Have you ever been on a boat?”

Freya nodded. “Once, but I didn’t like it much. My tummy felt funny.”

“Okay, okay, well this time will be better. You’re with me now, so I’ll look after you.”

Jonas could see no way back to Janey’s house. The only way was to go where the zombies couldn’t follow. He picked up the spade and then looked at Freya. “See that boat over there? We’re going to go on that, okay?” Jonas pointed to the jetty. “I want you to run and jump in it. I’ll be right behind you. We’ll make it a race. Ready, steady…”

Freya took off, running straight for the jetty. “Go!” shouted Jonas. He had no intention of racing Freya, but he needed her to get to the boat as fast as possible. He had seen two runners emerge from the park, and he had to make sure they didn’t get to the jetty before he had a chance to get Freya to safety.

Jonas jogged away from the van and stood between it and the jetty. There was no way in hell they were getting past him. As he waited for the first runner to meet him, he looked back at Javier. Blood was trickling down the man’s face, filling Javier’s open mouth as he screamed and tried to push the dead off him. Jonas watched with satisfaction as Javier was eviscerated. The zombies clawed their way into his body, ripping his skin from his bones, shredding his flesh, and burying their teeth into him. As the dead dismantled Javier’s body piece by piece, Jonas caught Javier’s eyes. They were full of terror and pain, and Jonas couldn’t help but smile.

“That was for you, Dakota.”

Jonas gritted his teeth, raised the garden spade, and swung. He caught the first runner square in the face. With a resounding clang, it fell to the ground. The woman was barely out of her teens, but Jonas saw only the zombie. He brought the spade down on her head, the blade slicing through her scalp, decapitating her head from her body. The next runner was a thin girl with dark blue hair, a ring through her nose, and studs through her ears from top to bottom. Her upper lip appeared to have been peeled back as if in a snarl, but the reality was that it had been ripped off. Her skin was pale, mottled with a blue-green hue, and as Jonas swung the spade at her, she tripped. At the final moment, when he should’ve been lopping her head from her shoulders, she fell down at his feet, and he swung through thin air. The dead girl grabbed a leg, and Jonas stumbled back, desperately trying to get away from her gnashing teeth. He brought the spade down on her head, smacking the flattened metal over and over until the girl finally lay still. He had been seconds away from becoming one of them, and as he looked up, he knew he couldn’t fight any more. There was just enough time for him to make the boat, and he dropped the spade and ran.

“I beat you,” announced Freya as Jonas ran up to her. She was proudly sat in the boat, holding the gun. “I got this back out in case I had to shoot the bad people.”

“That’s great,” said Jonas jumping down into the boat. He quickly untied the mooring and began to push them away from the jetty, aware that the zombies were chasing him, some of them already running down the wooden jetty. He had to get the boat out onto the lake quickly. If even just one of those zombies got into the boat with him and Freya, he didn’t know how he would deal with it. “Just hold on to it for me, okay? Sit down and hold on, Freya.”

Jonas used the oar to push them out into the lake and dropped the fishing rods into the water. He heard Freya yelp, and saw the zombies running straight off the jetty into the water. He prayed they hadn’t worked out how to swim, and he sat down to row them further away from land. He wanted to rest, to drop the oars and hope the boat would navigate itself, but he couldn’t risk it. He forced his weary arms to work, pulling on the oars, and getting them further away from shore. More zombies dropped into the frigid water, and then they stopped. They began to crowd on the jetty and on the shoreline all around the lake, obscuring Janey’s house from view.

When they were far enough away, Jonas sat back in the boat and took the chance to regain some breath. His broken eye socket was causing him immense pain, and he couldn’t keep going. It was all catching up with him. It wasn’t just the physical effort but the mental effort it took to keep going.

Dakota was dead. His unborn child was dead. Janey was dead. Everyone he had ever known was dead. He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. The one crumb of comfort was that Javier was dead too. It had been so good watching him die, and Jonas was quite sure that Dakota was watching, too, from wherever she was now.

As Jonas sat back in the boat it floated effortlessly on the lake, and he was pleased Freya was quiet. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts. The shoreline was teeming with the dead. It seemed as if the whole of Thunder Bay had come out to see them off. Probably drawn by the firefight, the dead came in all shapes and sizes. Some staggered around the shore watching them; some even wading into the water. Unable to swim, the dead who ventured into the water never resurfaced. Hundreds of them lined the shore, their groans drifting across the calm water to him. Jonas slumped back, and let the rain wash his face. He just needed to sit and do nothing for a moment. He remembered so much no matter how much he tried to forget. He thought of how he had got to this point, and what had led to him becoming the man he had. Dakota, who had come with him on this journey only to die when they had been so close, was at the forefront of his thoughts. Erik, Quinn, Javier – all dead.

Dead.

All that was left, all that he had in the world, was Freya, a boat, and a gun. As rain beaded down his forehead and dripped from the tip of his nose, he remembered his father’s funeral. He should’ve buried him in a decent coffin. Why did that matter? Why did stupid thoughts like that pop into his mind? Hamsikker knew that this was the end of the line somehow. Where were they going to go from here? Everybody he had cared about was gone. Why was
he
left alive when everyone else had perished? What made
him
special? He didn’t want this and certainly hadn’t chosen it.

Life.

He didn’t even know what to do with it anymore. Dakota was looking down on him, he knew that, but he couldn’t feel her presence. He would give anything to see her one last time. He remembered making love to her, the trust and love he’d seen in her eyes when he’d proposed, and he wished he had the energy left to weep. More than Janey and her three boys, more than Freya, more than anything, he wanted Dakota back. He wanted her back so much it literally hurt. His heart pounded with pain, he missed her so much, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. There was no going back and no way of seeing her ever again. God, he needed to be with her. He didn’t want to talk about Dakota in the past tense. To do so would be an admission she was gone forever, and his mind was not ready to accept that yet. He could still feel her, and he wanted to hold onto that as long as he could.

“Uncle Jonas, are you okay? I can still see the bad people.”

Freya’s question snapped Jonas out of his dreams, and he looked at her. She was so precious, so delicate and full of sorrow, that he hated to see her like this. Looking at her, her blue eyes so very much like her parent’s, he knew he couldn’t give up now. In the second that it took to look into her eyes, he felt something stir. It was a hope that life hadn’t given up on him just yet. This little girl needed protecting, and giving up on her was not an option. He just needed to figure out where to go next.

“I’m okay, Freya. I’m just a bit tired. I’ll be okay in a minute. The bad people can’t reach us here. Try and ignore them.”

Jonas let his head fall back, and he closed his eyes. He was exhausted, and he knew he was bleeding all over the boat. He had been drowned, beaten up, blinded, and left for dead. Freya would understand if Uncle Jonas needed a rest. She could…

A loud crack startled Jonas, and he sat bolt upright. “What was that?” He saw Freya sitting upright, the gun held in both hands in front of her.

“The bad people. I thought they were going to get you. I wanted to shoot them, but-”

“Don’t worry, Freya, just put the gun down. The bad people can’t get you, I told you that. We’re in the middle of a lake, and they can’t…swim. I think…I think…”

Jonas felt sleepy suddenly, and he looked down at his shirt where red blood was blossoming. It was blooming in a circle from somewhere under his collarbone. There was a burning sensation coming from his chest, and all of a sudden he felt more tired than ever.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Jonas.”

Freya burst into tears, and Jonas watched as she threw the gun into the icy water.

“No, Freya, we might…” Jonas tried to sit up and grab the gun, but it was too late. He saw it slip beneath the water, and as he reached for it, he knocked the oar out of the boat. It, too, began to slip beneath the surface.

“Damn it.” Twinkling lights danced in front of his one good eye, and Jonas slumped back into the boat. He knew they needed the oar, but he felt utterly devoid of strength. He looked down at his shirt where the blood continued to flow. He understood why Freya was sorry. She had been aiming for the zombies on the shore. It was an accident. For some reason, he wasn’t worried, and didn’t even feel much pain. It was almost comical. They had come so far since Kentucky, been through so much and lost so much, that it was ironic he should die now at the hands of an innocent child. There was still a chance the bullet had only scratched him, and Jonas couldn’t bring himself to get upset about it. With Dakota gone, and only Freya left, he had other things on his mind. “Don’t worry, Freya, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry, it was an accident,” said Freya between her tears.

Jonas smiled at her as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “Not your fault, Freya, I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have… I…”

Jonas felt Dakota whisper in his ear. She was telling him that she loved him, and he let his remaining eyelid close. This was just a flesh wound, he told himself, just an accident. He had survived worse. He could recover from this. He always did. He sank back and tried to think. His thoughts were lucid, but he was slipping into a euphoric state. Voices at the back of his mind were foggy, distant, as if calling to him from some place far away. Dakota’s was the clearest. She was calling to him; telling him to relax. All he had to do was close his eyes and sleep. The pain would be gone soon. A blissful white light settled over him, surrounding him from all sides, like the gentle touch of his wife from before any of this trouble started. He knew he had to wake up, to help Freya, but it felt so good, he just wanted to relax for a moment longer.

Freya watched the bad people from the boat. They didn’t look like they could swim. If they could, wouldn’t they have all started by now instead of standing there waving at her? She stopped crying, and wiped her face. Daddy always told her not to cry, but to think about
why
she was crying, and then find a way to solve it. If only Daddy was here now, he would know what to do. Freya reached over the side of the boat and ducked her hand into the water. It was icy cold, and she pulled her hand out quickly. She was
not
going to swim in that. She didn’t even have her swimsuit with her.

“Uncle Jonas? You don’t look so good.” Freya was glad he was here in the boat with her, but he was asleep now, and she wasn’t sure what to do. She supposed she was going to have to row the boat herself. She looked at the water. The paddle thingy that Jonas had used to get them away from the bad people was gone. She looked around the boat, but it was empty. There was nothing but herself and her Uncle. It was quite nice out on the lake, and her tummy didn’t hurt like it did last time she had gone on a boat. If it stopped raining, she actually wouldn’t mind it. It was quite peaceful, and she started humming a little tune, something she remembered from school. After a minute of that, she was bored though. When she stopped humming it was silent, and she’d had enough of that too. She didn’t have any toys anymore, and now the stupid boat was drifting away from the shore. How were they going to get back to Daddy if they kept going the wrong way?

“Can we go now?” Freya kicked Jonas’s shoe. “Uncle Jonas?”

Jonas groaned, and slowly opened his one good eye. He stared at Freya and said nothing.

Freya drew her knees up to her chin, and fished in her pocket for the key chain he had given her. “Uncle Jonas?” He didn’t look very good, not at all, and the way he looked at her was funny, as if he didn’t recognize her. Her murmured something but she couldn’t make out what he was saying and it just sounded like a groan.

“Uncle Jonas, are you okay?”

THE END

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